


Mess With Your Heart

by Indigo_Penstrokes



Series: Modern Newsies [6]
Category: Newsies - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Getting Back Together, M/M, angst? maybe?, it has a happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-05 06:02:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11007474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Indigo_Penstrokes/pseuds/Indigo_Penstrokes
Summary: Kath brings in Bill Hearst to conduct the pit after their previous conductor quits. Darcy Reid is prop master that has a history with Bill that he is not wanting to relive.





	Mess With Your Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Dear magnificent reader,  
> I am joining the lovely [darcyreid](http://archiveofourown.org/users/bucketfulloffandom/pseuds/darcyreid) in the Bill/Darcy canoe with this fic. So if you like this go check out their fic, it's really good.  
> Otherwise, enjoy!

“Medda!” Katherine shouts as she pushes the door to the small theatre open.  
“Hey Jack, where's Medda?” She strides up to the stage where Jack is painting the sets for the show.  
“I'm over here darling, just giving our prop master a run down on his job.” Medda waves from the stage left wings.  
“I've found you a conductor.” Katherine smiles widely at the look of joy on Medda's face, she had said there was no way to get a conductor for a high school musical on such short notice.  
“He's a music student at my college and a good long time friend of mine.” She loops an arm around Medda's as she leads them to the center of the stage.  
“How old is he?” Medda drops her arm from Kath’s.  
“Same year as yours truly.” Kath leaps off the stage to open the auditorium door.  
“Bill Hearst I'd like you to meet Miss Medda Larkin.” She throws the door open to reveal an anxious looking young man with messy hair and slightly askew glasses.  
“I'm really looking forward to working with your group Miss Larkin.” Bill strides through the seating to shake hands with Medda.  
“The pleasure is truly mine, I wasn't sure Kath here could find us a conductor on such short notice after the unfortunate exit of our last one.” Medda chuckles, leading them.back up towards the stage.  
“Medda where do you want the…” Darcy has stepped out onto the stage, a collection of props in his arms. His face goes white as a sheet when he sees who Medda is talking with. “I, uh, I'll just go out, um, these back, yeah.”  
Darcy all but sprints back into the wings, a stray comic book prop fluttering to the floor.  
“That's odd,” Medda says, turning back to Bill, whose face has a mixed look of terror and surprise.  
“Bill, what's wrong, you look as if you've seen a ghost?” Kath places a hand on his shoulder, she hopes it's comforting and not awkward.  
“I would say our friend Bill here knows good ol’ Darcy. What're you exes? Former best friends?” Jack chimes from the top of the ladder where he's painting the set.  
“The hell, Kelly?!” Katherine whirls around facing the younger boy, well looking up at him, but close enough.  
“Jack!” Medda scolds at the same time.  
“Woah, just ask him if the look he's giving me isn't proof enough.” Jack gestures his paint brush at Bill, spattering silver paint all over the black stage floor.  
“Jack's right,” Bill says, finally regaining the ability to speak. “Darcy and I know each other. It's a really long and complicated story, but we have a history of sorts.”  
Jack pumps his fist in the air, more paint hits the floor.  
“Jack, paint goes on the set preferably not my stage floor.”  
“Yes Medda.”

The week continues like this, Bill shows up to rehearse the pit and Darcy stays backstage as far away from the pit as possible.  
It's driving Bill mad. So he develops a plan to corner Darcy and talk about all the things that happened. 

Arriving fifteen minutes before he needs to be there for their dress rehearsal Bill sneaks backstage. From the shadows he watchs as Darcy orders around some of the stage crew, waiting for a good time to talk to him.  
“Snitch, that has to go on stage left for act one, not over here.”  
“Davey, can you please tell your crew to quit touching the props?”  
“Jack, I swear to god if you leave your painting supplies on the prop table again I'm going to shove that brush so far up your ass you'll be coughing up silver paint for weeks!”  
Bill stifles a laugh, but it's too late Darcy whirls around, eyes narrowed.  
“What are you doing back here?” Darcy's voice is completely void of emotion.  
“Just hear me out, we need to talk.” Bill steps forward holding his hands out in surrender.  
“What's there to talk about? We broke up, what more is there William?” Darcy's doing his best not to break down in front of his crew, but the tears gathering in his eyes have other plans.  
“Yeah and that was the biggest mistake I've ever made. Darcy I should never have said what I did. I was scared, that's no excuse I know, but what we had…I loved you, and I still do.” Bill opens his eyes, green gaze locking with Darcy's grey. Darcy who has tears streaming down his perfect face. Darcy who had held onto the hope that what he felt Bill had as well. But now, now it's too much.  
“Please don't cry Darcy.” Bill goes to put his arms around Darcy, tears of his own shining in his eyes.  
“Stop, just please stop. I can't do this, not again.” He wipes away his tears as he pushes past his old friend, not caring that entire crew probably heard the whole exchange. But he doesn't care, he just can't see the heartbeat that's most definitely on Bill's face. Darcy doesn't register the body he runs into on his way to wherever he's going, as long as it's away from Bill. Wherever turns out to be the boys bathroom just outside the scene shop.  
“Darcy, what's the matter? Darcy look at me, what's wrong?” Davey Jacobs, the least likely person Darcy would think to be offering comfort, wraps his arms around a quaking Darcy.  
“Shh shh, it'll be okay.” Davey rubs soothing circles into his back as Darcy sobs harder, face pressed into Davey's shoulder. The door swings closed behind them, shutting out the real world for a few moments.  
The unlikely pair stand there until Darcy's tears have subsided and Davey feels it's safe to let his friend go.  
“I'm sorry you had to see all that,” Darcy finally says, wiping his eyes one last time.  
“It's fine, trust me. But if I may ask, who did it?” Davey’s gone into what the boys call “mom mode” where if any of them are hurt he does anything in his power to make them feel better or possibly hurt those who hurt them.  
“Did what? Oh that.” Darcy looks down at his feet, scuffing his red converse high tops against the tile floor of the restroom.  
“It's Bill isn't it?” Darcy's head shoots up. “Just as I thought, you two were avoiding each other like the plague.”  
“Guess we were.” His face flushes pink at how silly they were acting, and how when Bill did talk to him he just pushed him away even farther. But Darcy just can't take the heartbreak again, he just can't.  
“We, we should head back. Dress will start soon and I don't trust your crew with the props, sorry.” Darcy fixes his hair, he can never stand to look messy or unput together. He tries smiling, but it looks as forced as it feels.  
“I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but try talking to him again now that you’re a little more ready for it, okay?” Davey pushes open the creaky bathroom door. “Let’s go, you got this.”  
They walk back to the stage, Darcy ready to face this rehearsal.  
“You all know the rules around props, don’t touch it unless it’s yours and when you’re done with it give it to me or Snitch, preferably myself.” Darcy gives the actors the brief rundown as he slips the headset around his neck. It was still weird giving orders to these kids he had known for only a few months, but they’re friends of Kath so they became his friends when she told him to sign up for crew the previous year. Now they're as good a family as any he's had.  
“Curtains up, cue lights, cue sound,” Davey's voice comes through the headset clear and confidant.  
Dress rehearsal goes by in a blur of odd prop exchanges, flurries of set changes, and only one costume problem. All in all it was a splendid dress rehearsal.  
Now is when it gets tough, Darcy is going to talk to Bill.  
'Just breathe, it'll be fine’ Darcy tells himself as he walks over to the lip of the stage where the pit is.  
“I'm guessing you want to talk and not just stand there.” Bill walks up the stairs out of the pit.  
“Yeah, I do.” Darcy sits down on the edge of the stage, legs kicking against the wall.  
Bill sits next to him, not close enough to touch, but enough to be a grounding presence.  
“About earlier, I didn't mean to push you away, but I did. I just wasn't ready. I've been hoping for a while that you would come back, but once you showed up I didn't know what to do.” He stops and just breathes, knotting his shaking hands together.  
“I know what I want, but only if you're okay with it.” Darcy meets Bill’s gaze, biting his lower lip nervously, a habit he hasn't quite kicked yet.  
“I mean, I don't want to pressure you into anything…” He's cut off as Bill leans in and grabs the front of his shirt. Pulling the younger boy closer Bill presses their lips together slowly, giving Darcy the chance to back out if he wants to. He doesn't and Bill is so thankful that they worked out whatever it was between them, because Bill honestly missed kissing Darcy. The moments like these were always special, and now maybe they'll get the chance to have more of them.  
“You know,” Darcy says pulling away slightly, “I live pretty close to campus, maybe we could make things work? And I am going there next fall.”  
“I would like that very much.” Bill kisses Darcy again, this time with all of the possibilities their futures hold.  
“Darcy Reid, will you be my boyfriend?” Bill asks after a few more stolen kisses.  
“Yes,” Darcy mumbles against his lips, sealing the answer with a soft, sweet kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Constructive criticisms are always welcome along with kudos and comments.  
> So please yell at me if you see any glaring mistakes.


End file.
